Chapter 31: Jon

A large part of him still felt he shouldn't be leaving the Wall. Ser Denys Mallister had arrived at Castle Black on errands from the Shadow Tower. He had been most displeased when Jon informed him that he would have the command in Jon's absence. He had still accepted courteously enough but Jon could see he was not happy. Jon did not blame him. Keeping the peace was difficult enough for Jon and he had the advantage, however minor, of having some rapport with the free folk. Ser Denys could not make such a claim. He was, however, the best man to hold temporary command.

There is nobody else I can send. Jon kept telling himself the same thing. He was almost convinced it was true. He had not been able to find anybody both willing and capable enough to ride to Winterfell, particularly after they heard the stories about Arya. The only volunteers he had were some of Stannis' men and it was clear they were not offering in order to serve the Night's Watch. They have heard she is still unmarried. He heard them talk of the fierce and beautiful warrior maiden of Winterfell.

Jon might not know his little sister as he once had but he did know she would not give answers to men such as those. He also couldn't trust those men to ask the questions he needed to ask. It has to be me. He justified it as being more about his duty to the Night's Watch than visiting family. When he had made his case to his brothers they had looked sceptical. He heard some of them grumbling but most of them had been more accepting than he had expected. It is more justified that the last time I said I would ride South.

Jon was not going alone. Satin would accompany him as his steward. Half a dozen black brothers had agreed to come. Melisandre also would not be denied as much as Jon wanted to leave her behind. With them would be Tormund and two dozen of his men. Jon had not wanted to take free folk with him for fear of causing trouble with the lords at Winterfell but the Watch did not have the strength to spare enough men to provide a large enough escort for the new recruits. Jon had told Tormund he did not have to come but the wildling chief been hard to refuse once he heard the talk of Arya.

"Har, you need me Lord Crow. Who else can keep my men from trying t' steal your little sister. Mind you, if half the tales I hear are true, I'd have half a mind t' steal her meself".

Tormund was good company on the ride to Winterfell. He laughed loudly and often. His bawdy japes kept spirits high among the free folk and the black brothers. He kept the focus away from the priestess who was thankfully silent. He also helped distract Jon. The closer Jon got to Winterfell, the more he began to feel like a boy of fifteen again.

Tormund let out a low whistle and his men began to exclaim as the castle came into view. Jon realised that despite the wildling's experience in raiding, he would not have come far enough south to see a real castle. Jon was less impressed. He felt his stomach clench seeing the clear signs of destruction, the blackened stones and timber from the earlier burning. Everywhere there were signs of new construction but it would never be the same. The fingers on his sword hand opened and closed thinking about Ramsey Snow.

They were still some distance away when Ghost reappeared with two direwolves accompanying him. Nymeria was larger than both of them. Shaggydog looked wilder. The wolves went ahead of the group, racing towards the castle faster than the horses.

He heard the horn blow. He saw the sentries and when he identified himself the gates were promptly opened. There was a rather large welcoming party. Jon saw scores of curious eyes looking over their group. He knew they would make an odd sight. He searched for Arya but at first he could not pick her out. Men hurried forward to take the horses through to the stables. Orders had clearly been given to make them comfortable despite not all eyes in the crowd being friendly.

It wasn't until the crowd dwindled that he saw her. He heard a female voice barking orders and saw people moving in response. The remaining onlookers parted ways and a young woman stepped between them. A boy was with her as well as a big knight and a large woman dressed as a man and wearing a sword. Both looked protective. The boy looked fierce but Jon could see he was also uncertain. He knew instantly it was Rickon. He had the Tully look, resembling Robb so much that it almost hurt Jon to see him.

Arya herself was harder to read. Jon searched her face. It almost looked carved from stone. He could see no flicker of expression. She was taller, no longer so dirty and skinny. Her hair was in a short braid, much tidier than he ever remembered it. She was dressed for a fight in boiled leather over woollen pants. A sword hung at her hip. The sword I had made for her. Jon couldn't help smiling to see it.

There was an awkward silence as they stood looking at each other. He heard the large woman next to her speak.

"My lady? Are you alright?"

It was then that Jon realised that despite her lack of facial expression, her hands were fluttering in a nervous gesture. She is as worried as I am. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Arya" he said hesitantly. "It has been so long".

He was shocked to see a tear roll down her cheek. She twisted her hands together.

"You look so like father now".

The years suddenly melted away and Jon stepped forward and swooped her into a hug. He felt her sob against him and her arms clung tightly to his neck.

"I thought I'd never see you again" she whispered in his ear.

So did I little sister. He let her go reluctantly and was surprised to see she remained expressionless. He studied her a moment. She had grown into her features and he thought she had become very pretty. Is she the woman from the flames? The more he looked at her, the more he thought she must be.

His thoughts were interrupted when the boy spoke.

"You're my brother" he said in a serious voice.

Jon looked at him. Brother. It was different. Jon had always been the half-brother, the bastard brother. Rickon hadn't qualified it.

"I am"

Rickon looked at Arya and when she nodded, Jon was surprised to have him lunge forward and embrace him fiercely. Jon returned the gesture, meeting Arya's eyes. He would not remember me. This is her doing.

The reunion ended and Arya began introducing her companions. The woman was Lady Brienne of Tarth. The knight was Ser Rolly Duckfield. There was a note of pride in Arya's voice when she introduced Jon.

"This is my brother, Lord Commander Jon Snow of the Night's Watch".

Lady Brienne was courteous enough. Ser Rolly was downright friendly and Jon saw a shared look between his sister and the knight.

"Har! Are you going to introduce us Lord Crow" came the shout from behind.

He saw something flicker in Arya's expression (or lack of it) and hastened to make the introductions. Her face twitched as he introduced Tormund and he could tell despite the absence of a smile that she was amused with his title, especially when Tormund began to add to it.

"I'm pleased t' meet this little sister I keep hearing 'bout". He gave her a gap-toothed smile. "I'll have a talk with the lads. They'll think you're ripe for stealing".

Arya broke into a wolfish grin, the first real thing Jon had seen from her. She began speaking in another tongue. Jon didn't know the words but he knew it was the old tongue.

Tormund bellowed laughter and responded in the same tongue, bringing a snort from Arya. Jon was confused. He had known she was learning the old tongue, he just didn't know she would learn so fast.

"I like this one" Tormund snorted. "I don't know why you were so worried Snow".

Jon looked at Arya questioningly.

"I said they're welcome to try" she explained. "I've been told I'm quite the spearwife".

I've been practicing my needlework. Jon had the nagging thought again that Arya was not a little girl anymore. There was something unsafe about that grin.

Arya explained they couldn't all fit in the castle. She had quarters for Jon but a tent had been set up for the other men. Jon was not fooled. He did not doubt that room was scarce in the castle but he knew how this worked. The lords did not want the wildlings. His sister had found a compromise.

"I will have food brought out when you settle in" she directed her words to Tormund. "I'm afraid it won't be much of a feast. There will also be some wine but we are low on that too".

The free folk and black brothers retreated in the direction of the tent. All that remained was himself, Satin and Melisandre. He saw Arya's eyes narrow.

"I do not understand why the priestess is here"

I do not like it either sister.

"The Lady Melisandre wished to speak with you"

Arya's face was an open book this time. The feeling is far from mutual.

"I will find somewhere for her to stay" Arya said stiffly. "I have many duties. You will not waste my time my lady".

Jon glanced at Melisandre. The red woman simply smiled. I wonder if she saw that in her flames.

They walked together into the castle, Melisandre melting away. Jon was thankful that she was not going to intrude on the whole of what little time he would have with his brother and sister. On their way to his quarters, Rickon spoke up shyly.

"Can I show Jon my sword skills?"

Arya softened as she responded. "Jon is here as Lord Commander. I don't know if he will have time".

"I can spare a little" Jon said quickly.

Arya's face lit up in a real smile. "He has lessons with Duck. Perhaps you might watch a few minutes".

Jon nodded, feeling a painful twist inside. It is only making this harder. It would be difficult to leave them again.

He saw another knight just as he began to climb the stairs. This man viewed him with open hostility. Jon ignored him. He knew he wouldn't be welcomed by all.

"That is Uncle Brynden Tully" Arya said in a low voice when they were out of earshot.

Jon frowned. Lady Stark was gone and yet she still found a way to make him feel unwelcome and unworthy.

He settled into his chambers, noticing that Ghost had followed and that Rickon lingered. Arya had left to attend to other matters. Jon instructed Satin as to his duties and the steward left to fetch the bags and belongings Jon had brought.

"Arya gave you one of her special smiles" Rickon blurted.

"Did she?"

Rickon nodded, chewing on his lip.

"Are you really like father?"

Rickon doesn't remember him. Jon thought of how to answer the question.

"People say I am".

The boy fell silent.

"Does Arya smile much?" Jon prompted, feeling guilty for manipulating his young brother.

Rickon shook his head.

"She smiles but not real smiles. She keeps her special smiles for me sometimes and Duck. Sometimes Brienne. Sometimes I see it when she talks about..."

"About what?" Jon prompted.

"I'm not supposed to say" Rickon mumbled.

"The prince" Jon guessed.

Rickon went a little pale and put his fingers to his lips in a gesture clearly imitated from elsewhere. "There are ears" he whispered.

Jon nodded. There are indeed.

AN: The next will be Jon's POV too. The chapter became enormous, I had to split it. It is almost finished, I will post it soon